Comatose
by TornAngelWings
Summary: Daemon Spade watches over a comatose Alaude and eagerly waits for him to gain consciousness. Daemon Spade/Alaude; DaeAla late gift!fic for Rikuzinkernagel on twitter.


Pale hair nearly colorless enough to be a shade of white fanned over a dark silken pillowcase. Normally alert, icy blue eyes were closed like they had been for the past two weeks since the incident at the Vongola Headquarters that taken place during a certain feast. Faint pink lips were pressed together in a perfect display of serenity.

Daemon Spade's eyes lingered on the comatose form on the Primo Cloud guardian as his leather-clad fingertips traced a blue vein up the length of the Frenchman's arm. Alaude was so perfect, like a pretty porcelain doll meant to be cherished and hidden from prying eyes. A set of warm lips touched cold, pale ones as a hand curled in soft blonde-white hair.

Daemon couldn't resist. Alaude really was too beautiful for his own good. Whether those eyes be narrowed and those lips snarling, or eyes closed and lips submissively still, Daemon couldn't help but claim him for himself over and over again. The illusionist broke the kiss with a heart-heavy sigh. How much longer would it be, before his little songbird would awaken and want to be set free? If only he could confine Alaude here forever. However, he wanted him awake, responsive. His ears longed to hear those snarky remarks uttered in fluent Italian with an undertone of a French dialect, his eyes longed to peer into ones so striking in color he thought the aloof man could see into his very soul.

The physician had told Daemon that comatose patients could sometimes hear or feel, depending on the coma itself. This particular patient, the doctor had stated, is probably a fortunate one who can hear and feel despite his condition. Alaude was strong, after all. The doctor expected him to awaken soon, quicker than expected from anyone else who might have consumed the same poison Alaude had.

Only two weeks ago Giotto had ordered a feast for the entire Vongola family. It was expected that an enemy family would try to infiltrate and poison at least one of the guardians, if not Giotto himself. Alaude had known which cup had the poison. It was the aloof cloud who had killed the assassin in the end. However, it came with a price. In order to trap, collect a confession, and execute the man responsible, Alaude had to drink the poisoned cup.

At first, everyone had thought him to be dead. As it turned out, however, Alaude had actually removed the lethal poison from the dead man and replaced it with an identical powder that would only render its consumer comatose for a month or two.

Daemon reflected at the anger that had burned in his heart before Alaude was not confirmed as alive, anger that his little songbird had fallen in Giotto's place; how many lovers of Daemon's would Giotto's under leadership? This fiasco had opened some old wounds left behind by the death of Elena that the presence of the blonde CEDEF founder had stitched back together.

Gently not to disturb the unresponsive body, Daemon tugged a corner of the soft duvet and silky sheets open to slip between. If Alaude could feel or hear, Daemon vowed to make sure he did so to the fullest. Immediately he curled an arm around the slender hips of the petite male, nuzzling his face against a pale neck. Even if there was no response, Daemon just **knew **Alaude felt him.

"Alouette, my songbird," Spade purred in his ear as he made himself comfortable with the body in his arms, "you can hear me, can't you? I sincerely hope you can. I do wish you would hurry to wake. I miss seeing those precious expressions flicker across your face. As beautiful as you are in this condition and as lovely as it is to have you here always, I do want to see those magnificent eyes of yours." Spade smirked against the soft flesh of the Vongola cloud's ear. "Won't you please wake up?"

Daemon waited a few minutes for a response he knew he wasn't going to get. "Goodnight, my little bird."

The next morning Daemon had awoke to the hairs on that lined his neck on end, a natural reaction to the sensation of being stared at. His stormy blue eyes snapped open to meet the lighter, icy irises he had missed so much.

He didn't so much as breathe loudly, not with usually hostile eyes looking so thoughtful. His hand slipped into translucent hair and his fingers rubbed silky strands between them, just as both of their necks craned to fill the gap between them. Their lips were warm and soft at first, Daemon allowing his newly-awakened songbird to sample the feeling before he pressed more encouragingly against the other's slight frame.

His warm hands cupped smooth cheeks as Daemon dusted the most affectionate of kisses along Alaude's prominent features, occasionally nipping along his strong jaw bone like he knew the other liked. His brushes of the lips trailed down Alaude's throat before his teeth sank into a tempting spot near a delectable collar bone, deep enough to draw crimson to the surface. He did spare a lick over the smarting love bite, which was something he usually didn't do since he knew Alaude liked rough elements to accompany too-soft kisses, but the man had just fought his way through a coma.

The Vongola cloud pushed Daemon's shoulders away when he started to maneuver to loom over the small male, a frown tugging at his lips. Daemon's disappointed scowl hardly changed his mind, but he rolled over to press his cheek against the illusionist's chest. The melody of Daemon's steady heartbeat always proved to be an excellent noise maker to rock the aloof blonde to sleep.

Daemon's lips quirked, his arms wrapped tightly around the other's midriff. He had to remember that the doctor had said Alaude would be a bit drowsy after gaining consciousness. He clucked his tongue in faint annoyance. What a shame; he wanted to play. The soft yawn emitted from the CEDEF founder immediately cured any annoyance. There would be plenty of time to play when the other was fully recovered. Until then he would lather him with extra affection to later replace with rough play.

Alaude was worth every second of his life, as much as Daemon tried to scorn the idea.


End file.
